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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25307794">you're the reason i believe (in ghosts)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/florallylly/pseuds/florallylly'>florallylly</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TWICE (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/F, Post-Break Up, but she's already dead from the get go, like she's a ghost, nayeon is a ghost, the major character death is just nayeon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:47:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,329</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25307794</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/florallylly/pseuds/florallylly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeongyeon wasn’t stupid. They went to the same school, and the campus was a lot smaller than it seemed. They were bound to run into each other again. She just never expected that it would be like this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Im Nayeon/Yoo Jeongyeon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Tip 0: Don't have a girlfriend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Finals season usually meant cramming until 3 am and endless cups of coffee and stressing over notes until you nearly pass out.It definitely didn’t mean having your very annoying, very dead ex-girlfriend peering over your shoulder, making snide remarks about how “messy” your notes were. But, well, here they were. Jeongyeon, glaring holes into her computer, trying to grind out enough words to fill her 10-page paper, which was due in 3 hours, thank you very much, and Nayeon- snickering over her shoulder, pointing out every little typo. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Could you shut up for 2 seconds?” Jeongyeon massaged her temples, shooting Nayeon a glare that could have killed her if she, well if she wasn’t already dead. Turning back to her computer, Jeongyeon typed two more words before she heard a soft snort. “What? Do you wanna write this paper?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you used present tense here, but throughout your essay, you’ve been using past tense. Also-” Nayeon giggled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nayeon, if I wanted help, I would’ve downloaded grammarly.” Jeongyeon clenched her teeth, trying to tune out the bubbly girl floating over her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If you had told Jeongyeon about a week ago that she would be in this situation, she would’ve laughed in your face, but here she was, room mates with her ghost ex-girlfriend, and neck deep in unfinished homework. Of course, one of these things was more pressing than the other, that was, her psych paper, but still, both were very worrying. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now, you may be wondering, how exactly did she get in this situation? And yeah, while Jeongyeon was a serial procrastinator and had a penchant for sleeping in instead of doing homework, that didn’t usually warrant the ever eerie presence of Nayeon peeking at her notebooks or whining in the middle of the night. In the first place, Jeongyeon was never the most “spiritual” person. That was to say, she didn’t believe in crystals, incantations, witches, demons or… ghosts. So of course, when her (very believing, but also very gullible) best friend had told her to burn sage in her apartment because she sensed an “otherworldly presence,” Jeongyeon had merely laughed and brushed it off as another scam Sana had fallen for. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck, if Jeongyeon had known this was going to happen, she would’ve happily burnt all the sage in the world, just to get rid of Nayeon’s never ending giggles and back handed remarks. and who could she tell about it? If she told Sana, Jeongyeon would have to deal with the incessant “I told you so”s and the like, and god knows that would be infinitely more annoying. And everyone else would take one look at the heavy bags under her eyes, her clenched fists and her unbrushed hair and call the police, or worse--the mental hospital. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So, she would have to deal with it on her own. But how do you go about trying to exorcise your ex-girlfriend? At first, Jeongyeon had looked up every method-- holy water, salt, Latin incantations, she had even gone to the closest catholic church to talk to a priest, who had very kindly given her his business card (did priests usually have business cards, or was that guy just a little sketchy?)-- but the thought of losing Nayeon again was overwhelming. Because even though they had broken up months ago, somehow, she still had a soft spot for her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though, she’d never admit it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Anyway, did it even really matter? Jeongyeon shook her head, hoping that by the time she opened her eyes, Nayeon, or the ghostly specter or hallucination or figment of imagination or whatever her poor, overworked brain had cooked up, would be gone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, it seemed like neither luck nor sanity was really on her side tonight, because despite needing at least a couple of hours of quiet to even make a dent in her paper, Jeongyeon looked up to see doe eyes staring back at her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You misspelled ‘humeral’ there. I don’t think you meant to say, ‘humoral,’ that’s like-” suddenly, Jeongyeon considered calling that priest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---------</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jeongyeon and Nayeon hadn’t exactly parted on the best terms. In fact, their breakup was less than amicable, it was more what you would call “messy.” There was no “mutual understanding,” and they didn’t agree to be friends afterwards. Instead, it ended with an argument, a slammed door, and Nayeon blocking Jeongyeon on every social media site to ever exist: facebook, twitter, instagram, pinterest, even myspace. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Frankly, it wasn’t really a surprise to anyone, not even Jeongyeon. The two of them had been fighting for weeks, over trivial things, and honestly, a blow up was bound to happen. Jeongyeon figured they would just give each other the silent treatment for a couple days before making out in the backseat of her 2008 Honda accord. Really, it was something of a ritual at this point. However, a couple days went by. And then a week, and then a month, and then a couple months, and then suddenly, there was Nayeon’s picture on the news, accompanied by, “local girl missing, more news at 8.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, maybe it was time to panic a little bit. And Jeongyeon did, for a second, before coming to the conclusion that Nayeon had probably just gone MIA for a bit, to get out of her head, and had forgotten to tell somebody. Or something like that. So she tried to ignore the little voice in the back of her head, and pushed that uncomfortable feeling in her chest deep, deep down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A week later, when Jeongyeon got back from class, she tossed her keys onto the couch, before turning on the tv. Some new Kristen Bell show was supposed to be on soon, so she stood in front of the screen, looking for the remote. A stern newscaster’s voice played in the background, and Jeongyeon only half listened, checking under the couch cushions. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And this is just coming in,” the scowling woman looked to her fellow anchor, her grimace evident, “The girl reported missing last week, Im Nayeon’s-,” Jeongyeon looked up, “body has been found. Police suspect foul play-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So, yeah, there was no make up makeout sesh in the backseat of that stuffy old car. It was kind of shocking, really, to think that one minute, they were fighting as usual in front of Nayeon’s apartment building (yes, they did get a lot of noise complaints), and the next, Nayeon just wasn’t… there. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jeongyeon had been the appropriate amount of fucked up, because well, how were you supposed to react when your ex, who you were still in love with, dies? Frankly, Jeongyeon didn’t really know either. It was weird, because no matter what she did, no matter what she said or how she felt, she couldn’t cry. The tears refused to fall. And maybe that was messed up, that she claimed to love Nayeon so much, and had put so much into their relationship, but when it came down to it, she couldn’t cry a single tear over her death. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe that’s why she was being haunted now. Divine punishment. Well, if that was the cause, Jeongyeon was writing a very angry email to god. Or whoever was in charge of ghosts, or whatever. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>To whom it may concern: </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Good evening. Or morning. Or afternoon, really anytime of day, I don’t dictate what time you’ll open this email, but it’s currently 3:00 AM for me, so I guess… good morning. I’m not quite sure how to go about doing this, but I would like to file a formal complaint re: my dead ex-girlfriend. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I appreciate the sentiment, or whatever, but frankly, it’s been one week too long, and I need her out of my apartment. For one, she doesn’t pay rent-- yes, I know, non-corporeal being, she doesn’t take up space. However, she gets on my fucking nerves, so if you would kindly exorcise her, that would be great. It would bring me great pleasure to know she was finally able to rest and- </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was the part that stopped her every time: where would Nayeon go if she were exorcised? Jeongyeon wasn’t one for religion, but she was raised catholic, and the Bible dictated a very clear distinction between heaven and hell, and well, Nayeon was no saint. Setting aside the whole “raging homosexual” thing (which let’s face it, God wouldn’t really care), Nayeon was, to put it gently, engaging in consensual, out-of-wedlock sexual relationships (oh, the horror!). That being said, the idea of sentencing Nayeon to eternal damnation didn’t quite sit right with Jeongyeon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And the issue with reincarnation, while theoretically kind of sick (in all the best ways), also meant that there was a possibility Nayeon would come back as a spider, and that didn’t sound very appealing either. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The idea of a dark, empty nothingness-- of nothing beyond the final breath and death, was even more terrifying. Fading away, leaving nothing but a faint memory and a lifeless body, just seemed so… Jeongyeon didn’t know how to describe it, but it definitely wasn’t good. So, back to square one: rooming with the ghost of her ex-girlfriend (the quintessential college experience). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tip 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tip 1: Despite how much she begs, ghosts can’t actually eat. If she asks for a bite of your pasta, just say “no!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jeongyeon step-touched in front of the stove, awkwardly dancing along to America’s top 40, waiting for her pasta water to boil. If there was one thing Jeongyeon hated about college it was, well nearly everything, but especially how expensive it was, which directly related to her food budget. Moving into an apartment, instead of the dinky school dorms was a choice related less to her meager finances and more her need for her own private bathroom. Unfortunately, this meant she had to cut down on her food expenses, which usually meant actually eating the end pieces of a loaf of bread, keeping food way past its expiration date, and buying pasta in bulk. And buying pasta in bulk usually meant eating pasta for days, and days, and days. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes, she’d switch it up and instead of eating pasta with microwaved canned sauce, she’d eat pasta with no sauce at all (Gordon Ramsey, eat your heart out). So it was one of those nights, again-- her weekly foray into the kitchen, which really just meant boiling enough pasta to fit in a 5 liter tupperware (a bit excessive, maybe, but who are we to judge). Jeongyeon kept her eyes on the pot of water, humming along to whatever popular song was playing, her step-touches getting a touch (ha.) more aggressive. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what they say,” Nayeon materialized right by Jeongyeon’s shoulder, sending a chill down her spine, “a watched pot never boils.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus Christ!” Jeongyeon flinched back, her hand over her heart as if that would somehow stop it from beating any harder, “You scared the shit out of me.” She grabbed a wooden spoon off the counter, stirring the water, hoping that would somehow get it to boil faster. Nayeon just smiled, the picture of innocence. Jeongyeon grumbled under her breath, putting the wooden spoon down with a bit more force than necessary. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had been nearly two weeks since Nayeon had suddenly appeared in her foyer (okay, the hallway between the door and the kitchen, but “foyer” sounded so much nicer) and she still had no concept of the words “personal space,” or “not taking advantage of not having a body in order to sneak up on poor, unsuspecting ex-girlfriends.” No, in fact, she had somehow gotten better at, for lack of a better term, sneaking around, which basically meant that Jeongyeon was on the fast track to a fear-induced heart attack, and considering her diet of basically just pasta, there was very little hope for survival (based on what statistics? see works cited). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The water began to bubble, and Jeongyeon tipped in a box of Barilla penne, stirring with her wooden spoon once before setting a timer on her phone. At this point, she had pasta-making down to a science (fill pot with water-- how much? who knows! put the pot on the stove. wait for water to boil. put pasta in water. ??? cry.), and nothing, not even a distraction in the form of the ghostly apparition of one Im Nayeon would derail her gourmet pasta aspirations. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you think pasta’s your best dish, but-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It is! It is.” Jeongyeon interrupted, unreasonably proud of her own meager achievement. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But, I think we both know there’s one dish you do better.” Jeongyeon frowned, turning to look at Nayeon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean,” Jeongyeon pointed the spoon at Nayeon (for dramatic effect, duh), “pasta is my only dish. Therefore, my best dish by default. And! I am totally not being modest here, I can barely fry an egg, and I never buy eggs anyway, so they don’t count. Though, I guess I do make a mean toaster strudel, but does prepackaged food count? If it does, I might have to concede to Hamburger Helper, like-” She rambled on, only stopping when she caught the look in Nayeon’s eyes, “What?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I was talking about your stupid butter and sugar sandwiches, but now I just feel bad.” Nayeon laughed, a full belly laugh, the sound of it enough to fill the room, and Jeongyeon replied in kind, her giggles muffled by her hand. Jeongyeon reached out, trying to balance, and Nayeon held out her hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And (like an idiot) Jeongyeon tried to take it. She pitched forward, catching herself just before she fell. Her hand had gone right through Nayeon’s. There had been nothing there, an absence of space, a void. She didn’t even feel the characteristic chill most people described in the presence of ghosts. There was just… nothing. A lack of. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Jeongyeon sobered up immediately, “Forgot.” She turned back to her pasta, stirring absentmindedly. It was scary (and almost embarrassing) how easily Jeongyeon had fallen back into old habits around Nayeon. Falling back into the feeling of having her felt like relief, and it was so, so addicting. And Jeongyeon really didn’t want to think too much about it, because, for the most part it felt so real-- but that was the problem, wasn’t it? It wasn’t real. Even if Nayeon wasn’t (dead) the way she was, there was no guarantee they would come back to each other. Jeongyeon was too stubborn to talk to Nayeon, and Nayeon had been so angry the last time they saw each other. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jeongyeon clutched the wooden spoon, her nails digging into her palm. None of this was real, and sooner or later, Nayeon was going to leave (again), except, that would be it. No make up, no awkward meeting at KASA meetings, no seeing each other in passing while walking to class (but what’s done is done is done, and what else can you do, but move on?).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t recall pasta looking that mushy.” Jeongyeon looked back down at the pot, her penne soggy and sad-looking (feeling more like bobby flay than barefoot contessa). She sighed, turning the burner off and straining the noodles nonetheless (a box of dry pasta costs like 5 dollars. that’s Expensive), only to dump them back into the pot with half a jar of Trader Joe’s brand alfredo sauce, resigning herself to forcing down the tasty (but lowkey nasty) pasta for the next week and a half.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nayeon watched her put most of the pasta into tupperware containers to be tucked into the refrigerator later, save for a small bowl she placed on the counter. Grabbing the bunch of parsley (her one allotted exorbitant expense for the month), Jeongyeon plucked a sprig, placing it as the garnish. Fork in hand, she leaned forward against the counter, mindlessly scrolling through her messages: </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sana: can u believe that betch tried to buy white sage at the shop today??? ok, colonizer--</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dahyun: how did ur ochem exam go LOL loser… maybe if u were stupid like the rest of us--</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Chaeyoung: is it gay if i--</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nayeon cleared her throat, and Jeongyeon looked up from her phone. She was hoping Nayeon would take the hint and let her eat her sad bowl of pasta in peace (of course, that must have been too much to ask because-- )</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No bowl for the dead girl? That’s pretty--” Nayeon paused to think, “pretty ghost-ist of you. Zombie-ist. Necrophobic?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you even eat? It won’t just, like, fall through you, or something?” Jeongyeon gestured vaguely, pointing at Nayeon’s transparency and general lack of a physical body. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think so? I mean I can move stuff if I want to, so I could probably take a bite.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t sound very reassuring,” Jeongyeon said around another forkful of pasta, ignoring the pitiful look in Nayeon’s eyes, “I don’t want to have to clean up after you, just because you thought you could eat. Waste of time. And pasta!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nayeon pouted, and Jeongyeon scoffed, “Couldn’t we just try with, like, one noodle or whatever? I haven’t eaten in forever.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, and…” Jeongyeon continued to eat, willfully avoiding Nayeon’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” Nayeon pleaded, “I just want to taste something, just one last time.” It was embarrassing how easily Jeongyeon gave in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, but! Just one noodle.” Jeongyeon held out her fork, the single penne hanging off one of the tines. Nayeon leaned forward eagerly, biting into the noodle (with purpose! and resolve!). For a second, it seemed like it would work-- maybe ghosts were really capable of eating regular food? But then of course, when did things ever happen like Jeongyeon thought they would. The noodle went right through Nayeon’s lip, but apparently she had had enough control over it that it slid off the fork, which meant that instead of it just staying on the fork, it fell with a wet plop on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So…” Nayeon turned her eyes on Jeongyeon, wide and doe-like. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Jeongyeon mimicked Nayeon, “You’re cleaning that up.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay… how?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuc-” Jeongyeon took a deep breath, “I am going to call Dahyun’s priest, and he is going to exorcise the shit out of you, Im Nayeon.” Still, she picked up the piece of penne, wetting a paper towel to wipe up the rest of the sauce. Jeongyeon wagged the soiled paper towel at Nayeon, who replied with a wide grin, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Whatever, stupid.” If this living situation was going to become a long-term thing, Jeongyeon was going to have to make a couple of ground rules (and maybe discover the extent to Nayeon’s ghostiness or whatever).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hahaa [debby ryan face] i feel like this. chapter was not da chapter i was picturing in my head when i was planning it out, but que sera sera u know!! anyways :D hope u enjoyed?? it. thanks for readin im like [insert appropriate emoji here] i can not believe this is able to be viewed outside of my own existence idk if that makes sense anyways. <br/>i am on twitter @milkllylly (pls talk to me im going insane)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tip 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tip 2: Ghosts don’t sleep, or have dreams. So if she’s not responding, or seems to be asleep, call out her name-- she’s not dreaming, she’s remembering. </p><p> </p><p>Nayeon usually wandered outside while Jeongyeon slept. Not that she really did much of that (pre-med sucked, and meant she was destined to hours upon hours of simultaneous studying and regretting her life decisions), but when she did, Nayeon phased through the door, or wall, or window, and apparently wandered the streets, people watching and eavesdropping. Jeongyeon didn’t know where exactly Nayeon went, but she usually came back with stories about people from school-- shocking, scandalous, most times, not quite believable (but hey! who was she to argue with the ghost who could listen in on conversations without being spotted). </p><p> </p><p>So, finding Nayeon standing completely still, her eyes falling shut, Jeongyeon just assumed that she was sleeping. Maybe Nayeon had been sleeping instead of wandering around like Jeongyeon had assumed. Jeongyeon waved her hand a couple of times in front of Nayeon’s face, tempted to clap loudly and startle her, like Nayeon had done to her every time she popped into the apartment (and no, she would never get used to her deceased ex-girlfriend walking through the walls to annoy her). But, like the law-abiding, God-fearing citizen she was (or more like the indulgent, lovestruck fool she was), Jeongyeon tip-toed past the sleeping ghost hovering over her Target rug. </p><p> </p><p>Moving as quietly as humanly possible, Jeongyeon set her books down on her desk, turning on her too-bright desk lamp, so she could drag herself through her assigned readings. Looking at the list of chapters “recommended” to read before her stupid ethics lecture on Tuesday was annoying, but compared to the rest of her hectic (supernatural) life, skimming through Plato felt mundane and slow enough to be something of a comfort. It was nearly midnight when Jeongyeon finally looked up, rolling her neck and stretching her arms. She let out a satisfied sigh, slumping back down in her chair, but she quickly straightened up when she heard Nayeon mumble something behind her. </p><p> </p><p>Jeongyeon shot up, worried she had woken her up, and glanced at Nayeon’s still figure in the living room (and the bedroom, and the kitchen-- studio apartments were way cheaper, ok), but her eyes were still closed, and she seemed as out of it as she had been when Jeongyeon had come home. So, Jeongyeon ignored it and walked past her to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She had just barely reached the doorway before she heard it again-- a whisper, really. Jeongyeon moved closer, hoping to catch Nayeon saying something stupid or incoherent enough that she could make fun of her later. </p><p> </p><p>“Stop,” Nayeon mumbled, “Please, I don’t--” Jeongyeon stilled. “Jeongyeon. M’ Jeongyeon.” </p><p> </p><p>Jeongyeon smirked, “Sure. You’re Jeongyeon.” She slipped into the bathroom, brushing her teeth quickly (what? she had an 8am lecture the next day), before crossing the room to grab her pajamas. Regardless of whether or not Nayeon had seen her (n*ked) before, Jeongyeon felt a bit awkward changing in front of her. She moved to go back to the bathroom before she heard it again-- </p><p> </p><p>“I’m Jeongyeon, so--” Nayeon gasped, her eyes screwed shut. Jeongyeon looked at her quizzically before continuing with her nighttime routine, slipping under the sheets and setting her alarm (or five). </p><p> </p><p>--------</p><p> </p><p>Jeongyeon shut the door, tossing her bag on the ground before laying face down on the rug, fisting the plush material in frustration. Sometimes, her dumb Catholic private school and their love for excessive, useless GEs made her want to drop out. Anatomy, she understood. Organic chemistry and microbio, she understood. But “optimal health” and “christian life as a vocation?” Forget it. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe she should’ve gone to a public school with normal GEs, and less Young Republican clubs, but with a full ride, everything else seemed bearable (but was it really?). Jeongyeon sighed, letting herself lie boneless on the floor, too tired to drag herself to the bed (especially with dirty clothes on). </p><p> </p><p>“What’s up, buttercup,” Nayeon chirped from above her. </p><p> </p><p>“Please, not now,” Jeongyeon groaned, “Dahyun tried to get me to join her prayer group again.” She rolled over, looking up at Nayeon and her dumb (cute) smile. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, the horror! Organized religious activity, how terrifying.” </p><p> </p><p>“Hm. Not quite as scary as you, interrupting my well-needed, and scheduled, pity party.” Nayeon laughed. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m so going to exorcise you. I have Dahyun’s priest on speed dial, I swear.” </p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” Jeongyeon flipped her off, her arm quickly flopping back down.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just too tired to get my phone. You should be grateful my ethics professor railed me today. How am I supposed to know what the fuck ‘Nichomacean Ethics’ are, and what Socrates said about them. I am literally a child. And I’m illiterate.” </p><p> </p><p>“Come on, up now. Go take a nap instead.” Nayeon gestured. Jeongyeon whined, but reluctantly sat up. If anyone asked, she would say it was out of annoyance, or even habit, but everyone knew that Jeongyeon was especially weak to Nayeon whenever she was tired. Jeongyeon pulled off her sweatshirt and kicked off her pants, deciding that her shirt was clean enough to lay on her bed, and lord knows she was too lazy to put on a new pair of pants. She yawned, throwing herself onto the bed. </p><p> </p><p>“That reminds me,” Jeongyeon laying spread eagle on top of her sheets, “Do ghosts sleep?” </p><p> </p><p>Nayeon scoffed, “No, ghosts don’t need sleep.” </p><p> </p><p>“Really? But you seemed like you were sleeping last night.” Nayeon furrowed her eyebrows. </p><p> </p><p>“No, I wasn’t sleeping. I was just..” </p><p> </p><p>“Just what?” Jeongyeon struggled to keep her eyes open, too tired to really listen, but curious enough to try. </p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Nayeon started, but Jeongyeon had already fallen asleep, her mouth still open, “I was just… you’re not listening anyways.” Nayeon looked over her fondly, smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Jeongyeon’s hair brushed over her face, and she scrunched her nose unconsciously at the tickly feeling. Nayeon reached out, but stopped before she could make contact. “I wish I could touch you,” she sighed. </p><p> </p><p>She moved back, her hands clenched. She hadn’t been lying-- she really hadn’t been sleeping that night. Her memories of her death had been pretty hazy, just snippets really. She remembered the days prior, the explosive fight with Jeongyeon, Nayeon storming off to Jihyo to rant. She remembered the bar and being drunk. She remembered the god awful hangover the next day. But, she didn’t remember the day of her death. Was it an accident, or was it something… Nayeon shook her head, trying to sift through the memories she had suddenly recalled last night. </p><p> </p><p>It had been strange. She felt an intense pain, like something piercing straight through her skull, before being seemingly transported back to the day of her death. What she had seen didn’t even feel like memories. She felt like a third party, watching the events unfold from outside. Nayeon didn’t fully know what had happened that night, just remembered snippets of a conversation and the feeling of dread. There was one thing she was sure of, though, something her attacker had said that night, and the thought of it sent a chill down her spine. She repeated the words to herself, looking down at Jeongyeon with an expression something in between frustration and anxiety. </p><p> </p><p>“Where’s Yoo Jeongyeon?” </p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>bruv ... sorry i haven't updated in literally MONTHS nursing school is kicking my ass and some family shit happened during christmas, so i haven't gotten around to actually writing until now. um x ngl i don't know when the next chapter will be out bc x i'm fucking lazy and also omfg i'm about to go back to school and i'm going to kms. tell me why my school is letting me vaccinate people (yes i'm a nursing student no i don't know how to give someone a shot)<br/>ok also sorry this chapter sucks i was like.... yes set up..... um am i going to be able to do this plot line justice x probably not but um yes i will fucking try. anyways no i did not edit this yes i wrote it at 2 am and then immediately posted it also yes i am off my antipsychotics why am i on them no reason does this author's note make any sense no am i literally not using punctuation and making it confusing on purpose yes. jk that's literally how i text my friends i do not know why i even have any bc fuck! i'm annoying and confusing. anyways pls........ treat me gently..... i know this chapter does not make sense and is also..... so fucking dramatic for no damn reason.... bear with me i'm trying to go somewhere with this i swear. ok ANYWAYS thank u for reading and um i would drop my twt as per usual but ngl i have literally not logged on for ages so. i am so sorry mwah mwah much love thank you all</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>haha.... I haven't written in a while, and tbh this has been sitting in my wips collecting dust for a long time.... I KNOW THIS IS KIND OF A MESS RIGHT NOW, but i promise i will get it on track. so here's hoping i can handle this LOL.<br/>also... i made a new twitter so uh. i am now @milkllylly on twitter. please validate me. i desperately need attention</p></blockquote></div></div>
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